Next Time
by Morbid Hatter
Summary: Now a series of one-shots. Still House/Chase. Chapter eleven - set after Lockdown. Chase has a break down and House is there to help him through it
1. Next Time

Title: Next Time

Pairing: House/Chase

Rating: T

Warning: Implied slash – nothing graphic

Disclaimer: All publicly known characters and names belong to their respective affiliates.

I make no money in writing this.

A/N: This is my first House fic – let me know what you think. I like feedback of any kind – except flames, those are used to roast marshmallows for my s'mores.

This is just a one shot, but if you guys like it, I may write a few more related fics. I dunno.

Next Time

The first time House stepped foot into Chase's apartment, he wasn't exactly looking around and admiring the view. He was much more interested in the younger man in front of him who was intent on removing his shirt before the door was even closed. Needless to say, he didn't get a good look at where he was going and was surprised when he made it to the bed without killing himself.

The first time House had a chance to look around wasn't exactly a good time to take note of anything. He was more focused on how his duckling seemed quite content on rendering him into a great puddle of goo. House had to appreciate the Wombat's oral fixation now – it really had it's bonuses. However, when his head was thrown back, a strangled moan escaping through his slightly parted lips, he caught sight of a sliding glass door. For a moment House wondered where exactly the door went to and, more importantly, why there was such a door in someone's bedroom in the first place.

When House finally got a real chance to look around without any blonde Australian to draw his attention away, he took note of the apartment – or at least the bedroom. He couldn't see much because it had gotten darker some time while House's brain had shut down to all but one function and then the hour or so he had been asleep. It was unnaturally clean which either meant that Chase also had Obsessive Compulsive Disorder to tag onto the growing list of problems the young doctor had, or he was never here. House put the newest piece of the 'Wombat puzzle' under the latter; because Chase was an intensive, it was likely he wasn't in his apartment to turn it into a home.

After taking in the too clean bedroom, he noticed the door again. This time the door was slightly ajar and on the other side was Chase. House would've, if anyone was around to hear him, made a comment about how Chase being outside in naught but his boxers. _Wait, those are _mine, House thought after getting a good look at the only article of clothing Chase was wearing.

House got out of bed with a grimace. "Harder, House," he muttered, mocking what Chase had said before as he rubbed what was left of his mutilated thigh. He managed to find his jeans in the semi-darkness of the room and slid them on, limped over to the door and paused, watching as Chase exhaled a lungful of smoke. It made him stop and then that nagging feeling in the back of his head kicked in and told him, in no uncertain terms, that he wanted a cigarette.

He opened the door, leaned against Chase's balcony next to the aforementioned blonde. After Chase lowered the cigarette from his lips, House stretched his hand out and stole the cigarette.

He inhaled deeply and gagged, staring down at the offending cigarette as if it had done him a personal misdeed. "Menthol?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. He hadn't pinned Chase for a smoker, let alone smoking menthols.

Chase turned his head and blew the smoke out his nose. "Yeah?" he answered, his accent more pronounced than usual.

House shrugged and handed the cigarette back to Chase. "I didn't know you smoked, Robbie. And if you did, it would be some kind of poncy British shit." House had to pat himself on the back when he saw the scowl make it's way onto Chase's handsome face.

Chase sighed deeply and shook his head. "Must we get into this right now? I'm Australian," he corrected, resting his chin on his hand after he took another hit off his cigarette.

"If you're going to have a post-coital cigarette, it should at least be a good one," House said as if what he said was obvious to the rest of the world. "Red's work wonders for this sort of situation."

"You missed my actual 'post-coital' cigarette. You fell asleep," Chase said with a smile and straightened up before walking to the ashtray on the table next to House. The smile on his face made House a little nervous, not that he'd admit that to anyone else. "Go back to sleep. I'll be there in a bit."

House nodded, and walked back into the bedroom, favoring his good leg as much as he could until he was able to get to his vicodin on the bedside table. He dry swallowed two before he took his jeans off and crawled back into bed.

House woke up the next morning to an alarm clock going off by his head. He blinked a few times and glared at the offending alarm clock. It was almost nine. _Chase let me sleep in?_

He slowly got out of bed and shook his head to get rid of the sleepy feeling that was threatening to overtake him again. He then noticed a plastic shopping bag on the table next to his vicodin. He cocked his head to the side and opened it. Inside was a pack of cigarettes with a note on top in Chase's handwriting. House smiled and got dressed, stealing one of Chase's less obnoxious shirts before he walked down the hallway to the elevator and out to his motorcycle.

_Next time smoke these and don't steal mine. See you at work._

_- Chase_


	2. Entertainment

Title: Entertainment

Pairing: House/Chase (it's there at the end!)

Warnings: None, unless you count House giggling ... that could be bad ...

A/N: This doesn't have anything to do with my last one-shot, but it's in the same sort of time span - this comes a little later than _Next Time_ as it will become obvious at the end.

I want to thank some peeps so here goes:

**ShizukaAme**: Thanks! I'm glad I'm glad I stole your Chouse virginity. Welcome to our world. Hope you like this one too.

**Piper -loves you-: **I don't know if this one is adorable, it's kind of weird and is the result of a bit too much wine at dinner. Hope you like it though.

**Pinku Aisu Kuriimu: ** You put this on your story alert? Did you know I would listen? Wow, you're psychic. I didn't know I'd write this. But like I said above, this is what happens when I drink too much wine at dinner and haven't had a damn cigarette in two days. Well... don't get used to it... I start second semester in five days.

Peace love and vicodin to all who read and especially those who review. I give all my reviewers a big red lollie for your wonderful words of inspiration. And now, enough of my bullshit - part ... uh .... 2 I guess. It's kind of a stand-alone. Oh well.

Pax

**Entertainment**

House pulled into his parking spot at PPTH – much earlier than usual – and took his helmet off, showing his somewhat deranged smile to the rest of the world. He swung his bad leg over his motorcycle and grabbed his cane before he limped into the hospital, whistling a nameless tune.

He waved to the receptionist at the front desk and seemed to almost skip to the elevator. Wilson was already in the elevator – for whatever reason, House didn't care – and he smiled at his friend. "Morning!" he called happily, seeming completely out of character.

Wilson looked at the other man as if he had gone insane. "The psych ward is on this floor. Might I suggest getting off the elevator and checking yourself in?"

House laughed, actually laughed. He seemed way too happy for someone who only smiled when it was at someone else's expense.

"What did you do?" Wilson asked suspiciously. "I'm not saving you from the cops, House."

House stopped laughing but the manic grin was still in place. "There's nothing to worry about, I'm just in an exceptionally good mood today."

Wilson nodded, an eyebrow raised in silent question but he let it drop. "Whatever you say, House."

The elevator door opened to House's floor and waved goodbye to Wilson before he left with a cheery "Bye, Jimmy!"

House practically skipped into the differential room and noticed that he was, for the first time, the first person in the room. He laughed, although 'laugh' couldn't exactly be used to describe the sound he made. It was closer to a giggle, an insane, slightly hysterical giggle, but a giggle nonetheless.

He slung his bag off his shoulder and onto the counter next to the coffee pot. He giggled again and began rifling through his bag. Once he found the object of his search, an orange pill bottle, he allowed himself a mental pat on the back for his ingenious idea. It would be a wonderful day, well... wonderful for House. His poor little ducklings won't know what hit them.

He thought for a moment that maybe, _maybe_, he should tell Chase his plan. Then he thought better of it and knew that the blonde just needed to relax. He laughed and grounded up the pills before dumping them into the top of the coffee pot. He turned his head toward the door, sure that he had heard someone enter the room. When he saw no one he turned back to his work, adding coffee and water to the coffee maker before hiding the evidence in his bag and walking to his office to play on his DS.

Cameron was the first to arrive. House watched, now seated at the table, as she fixed herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table, waiting for him to say something.

"No case today?" she asked, sounding a little surprised.

"No case today," House confirmed, pretending to play his game when in all reality he had put the game on a demo mode so it would make all the sounds and all House had to do was push buttons and make it look like he was focused on the game. _Do it already,_ he urged her silently. He allowed himself the smallest of smiles when she drank her coffee.

He waited until the demo was over and let out a groan. Cameron looked up at him with a slightly out-of-focus look on her face.

"I died," he explained as if he were talking to a four year old. He sighed heavily, getting impatient, as he waited for the additive to the coffee to kick in. House picked up his cane and wacked it against the table-top. "I'm bored!" he declared, looking at Cameron as if she were to fix the situation.

She looked at him and shrugged.

"Entertain me!" He shouted, enjoying the way she jumped slightly in her seat. _This is going to be fun._ She stood up and stopped, unsure of what she was supposed to do. She looked at him for help but he did a little 'shoo' motion with his hand and sent her to find something to do.

She came back with Wilson who looked like he was supporting all of her weight. "House," he began, after depositing Cameron into her chair. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

House looked up from the white board where he was playing hang man with himself and grinned. "I don't know. Can you?" he asked, tapping the marker against the board. "You tell me what this says without hanging my man and I'll talk to you."

Wilson sighed and shook his head, trying not to hit his head against the wall like he was tempted to. He looked at the partially filled in phrase and then back at House "It's never lupus," he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

House sighed and filled in the rest of the letters, not even bothering to ask how Wilson had known what the phrase was. "Ruin all my fun," he muttered when they were in House's office. "I wanted to stay in there and see if I could get Cameron to guess too."

"What did you do?"

House put on his best 'I don't know what you're talking about' look and sat down in his chair to get ready for the third degree. "Did Cameron get you when I told her to entertain me?" When Wilson nodded House sighed. "Figures. The woman has no idea of what entertains me."

While Wilson and House were in his office Foreman had shown up and poured himself a cup of coffee, completely oblivious to the fact that Cameron was basically asleep in her chair.

House wandered back into the room, sat back down in his chair and waited for Foreman to finish his coffee. He didn't have to wait long; soon enough Foreman was sitting in his seat in much the same way Cameron was. His head was resting on the table and he was staring at his coffee cup as if the meaning of life was concealed inside the ceramic.

"42," House said, jerking Foreman out of his stupor.

"Wha?" the neurologist asked, sounding less coherent as time went on.

"The answer to life, the universe and everything," House told him as he spun his cane around in his hand. "Still bored," he mumbled to himself, as he waited for the last member of his team to arrive.

"You're late!" House said with mock anger when Chase hurried into the differential room ten minutes later.

"No I'm not," Chase countered and pointed to the clock on the wall.

House didn't bother to look, he was too enthralled at what the young intensive was carrying. "McDonald's?"

Chase smiled and looked around the room and then smiled again. He noticed that the other two-thirds of House's ducklings seemed to be all there. "What did you do?"

House grinned and made a 'come hither' motion with his finger. "If that's an egg McMuffin in there, I'll tell you."

Chase smile and handed House his McMuffin and unwrapped one for himself. "Now, what exactly did you do?"

House laughed and shook his head. "Nothing," he said around the large bite of the breakfast sandwich.

Chase shook his head and glanced at the white board. "It's never lupus," he said, pointing to the still-unfinished hang-man puzzle on the white board.

"Wilson already got it," House said with a small smile on his face. "You're not special."

Chase pouted. "I've got one you'll never guess," he challenged, picking up the eraser and putting the blanks on the board.

"You're on," House said, rising to the challenge. Unfortunately they never got completely through the game, House found more interesting things to do with his free time. He taped bows to Foreman's head and rolled twizzlers into Cameron's hair while they were asleep, groped Chase in the closet while hiding from Cuddy's wrath because he had skipped clinic duty again and hiding the remotes to the televisions once he had turned them to General Hospital.

Before House and Chase left for the night, House looked over at the board one more time and smiled. "Figured it out," he whispered, running his hand through Chase's blonde hair.

Chase looked between the white board and House several times, a faint blush on his cheeks.

House hadn't even begun to fill in letters but he knew what it was anyway. It was all over Chase's face, had been for quite a while now. "I love you, too, Robbie," he said before walking out of the differential room and to the elevator, his wombat next to him. "It was my vicodin, by the way," he added as an afterthought, a manic grin on his face. "The only thing that spared you was the McMuffin."


	3. Joke

**Joke**

It was meant to be a joke, but damn if it hadn't worked out that way.

House called Chase and told the blonde that he would be over in twenty minutes so he could watch General Hospital because his TV was broken. "And make something to eat," he said loudly and rudely into the phone before he hung up. It was a lie, of course, his TV was fine but Chase didn't have to know that. The wombat might get it in his pretty head that House wanted to spend time with him that didn't involve sex.

House knocked once before trying the doorknob. It was open so House let himself in.

He looked around, still not sure of the lay-out of Chase's apartment, before he found the blonde Australian. Chase was in the kitchen, shirtless with a bandana keeping his hair out of his face.

House couldn't help it, he started to laugh, leaning heavily on the wall to keep himself upright. Chase not only looked ridiculous with the bandana on but he was dancing around his kitchen, singing along to Queen's 'Don't Stop Me Now'. He was shaking his butt in time with the music which House found to be horrifically arousing.

As the song ended, chase turned around and looked at house, turning three different shades of red in as many seconds. "Hi," he said sheepishly. "I didn't hear you come in. I made chicken and potatoes."

House rolled his eyes. Chase, at times, was the epitome of gay. Times like this, for example, when he danced around his kitchen singing along to Queen's Greatest Hits. "All you're missing is a pink apron," he said under his breath as he accepted a plate and a beer from Chase.

He followed the blonde to the couch where the SOAP Network was already on and General Hospital was just starting.

xxxxxxxxxx

The next time House called Chase and told him he was coming over, he made sure to plan ahead. He managed to bribe Cuddy into giving both House and Chase the same day off by saying he'd actually do all his clinic hours for a week. She caved and he called.

House drove the corvette this time because this time he had a gift for his duckling. He knocked on Chase's door and waited but no one answered so House let himself in. The shower was running and there was a note taped onto the door.

_Make yourself at home. Food is on the table._

_~ Chase_

House took the note off the door and grabbed one of the plates of food, some kind of pasta, and sat down on the couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table. "Tuck in," he said to himself as he took a tentative first bite.

Chase came out of the bathroom in a pair of jeans, his hair still damp causing droplets of water to fall onto his shoulders. House watched the drops as they ran down Chase's chest and stomach before disappearing.

"Undressing me with your eyes shouldn't take that long," Chase commented. "I'm only wearing jeans."

"I'm appraising," House countered as he took another bite of his pasta.

Chase grinned, putting the Cheshire Cat to shame, and walked over to the table to get his own food, nearly tripping over House's bag in the process. Before Chase could trip over it again, House set his plate down and moved the bag after grabbing Chase's present. "For you," he said quietly, shoving the gift into Chase's lap after he sat down.

Chase opened the bag and laughed. "How sweet," he said, suddenly much closer to House than he had been. Chase kissed him on the corner of his mouth and sat back down on his side of the couch to suffer through another episode of General Hospital, his present in his lap.

xxxxxxxx

The next morning House woke up the smell of pancakes and coffee. He got up slowly, cursing the stamina of his young lover as he popped a vicodin.

When he walked into the living room and saw Chase in the kitchen, he couldn't help but smile. Chase was once again dancing around the kitchen again, singing along to Killer Queen, albite quietly now, and once again he was half naked. This time, however; he was wearing the pink apron House had bought him.

It was supposed to be a joke, but _damn_ if the kid didn't look good.

"You're such a queen," House said fondly, limping into the kitchen to join Chase.

"That's _Doctor_ Queen, to you," Chase quipped before turning to House. "You know, you've still got a few Red's left."

"Pancakes and coffee first," House demanded. "I don't have a wombat's stamina, you know."

Chase grinned and handed him a plate stacked full of pancakes. "Butter and syrup is on the counter, love."

House decided it was the best 30 dollars he'd ever spent once he was able to take the apron off Chase after breakfast.


	4. Alone

Title: Alone

Pairing: Chase/House

Rating: T

Warning: Slash and a little angst

Disclaimer: still applies to all chapters. Still don't own any known character - I just play with them and their emotions.

**Alone**

The worst way to spend New Year's Eve was at work; but it was worse for Chase and House. Chase's pager went off at 7:00, he was needed in the ICU. That was six hours ago. It was well past midnight and House was at his apartment, alone and half shit-faced already. It was bad to spend New Year's Eve at work, but it was worse to spend it alone.

House waited on Chase for as long as he could before Cuddy threw him out with the threat of more clinic hours if he didn't leave. Sometimes House wished she could just figure out for herself that he and Chase were together. It wasn't like he hadn't bribed her before to give them both the same day off. It couldn't be that hard to connect the dots. But here he sat, alone and not really in the mood to celebrate anymore.

He watched the ball drop in Times Square on the television and played Aud Lang Syne on his piano with only Steve McQueen for company. He sighed and looked at the clock on the wall; it was getting closer to two in the morning with no sign of Chase yet. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the blonde's number, knowing he wouldn't answer.

"_I can't come to the phone right now. Please leave a message_," Chase's voicemail said, his Australian accent thicker on the recording.

House sighed, hating that he was right about Chase not being able to pick up the phone. "Hi Robbie. I -" he paused, not exactly sure why he called in the first place. "I just wanted to make sure you remembered you were supposed to come over here tonight when you got off work. I -" he paused again before changing his mind and hung up after a short 'good bye'. He popped a vicodin and laid down on his couch, vaguely watching whatever was on cartoon network at such a late hour.

xxxxxxx

Chase sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair in the ICU with his head in his hands. He was focusing on breathing – not an easy feat for the intensive at the present time. It was nearly two in the morning and he had helped save four babies but watched as another three slipped past what they could do for them.

Chase, although he had gone through this same situation countless times, still felt the same agony at losing someone so young. He said a prayer for Adam, Joel and Kara – the three PPTH had lost that night – and stood up to go see if there was anything else he could do. _It's not like I have anywhere to be tonight,_ he thought to himself, and brushed away the anger at being called into the ICU on New Years Eve.

He was going to spend the evening with House. They were going to watch the marathon of The Twilight Zone on Sci-fi and pig out on popcorn. Now he was by himself, surrounded by doctors and nurses buzzing from one end of the ICU to the other and not one of them seemed to care that they were working and couldn't be with their loved ones.

Well, not Dr. Robert Chase. He was pissed off. But he was paged and he'd do his job as best as he could and be happy about the extra pay he was getting. It wasn't so bad, being with House. He would even pay for the groceries Chase would buy that fed the both of them. And, though he was loath to admit it, it did help out when it came to being able to pay back his college loan.

When midnight came around he was trying to restart baby Joel's heart with no success and he sang Aud Lang Syne along with the radio. He gave up minutes later-- _Time of Death – 12:03am_ and-- allowed himself to think of House. House told him to suck it up, it seemed harsh at the time but House – being House – was right. He needed to suck it up or suffer through the rest of his career. It was times like this – when everything seemed to be going nowhere – that Chase really had the opportunity to see why House was the way he was.

Being alone in the ICU on New Year's Eve wasn't the worst thing that could have happened. He could be Adam or Joel or Kara's parents and just lost a child. But, in a way he knew how they felt. He had lost both of his parents and now it felt like he was losing his lover as well. With the ICU taking up so much of his time, Chase felt like he was never able to spend time with House and that their relationship was falling apart.

They didn't fight that often and when they did, the fights never lasted that long. But it wasn't just that they didn't fight. They didn't communicate. And it was then that Chase had an epiphany. _He needs to know I'm here for him_, he thought has he grabbed his bag and changed out of his scrubs and into a t-shirt House had bought him and a pair of jeans.

"I've got to go home," he muttered to the nurse at the front desk in the ICU. He threw his bag into the back of his car and sped down the road until he pulled into House's apartment complex.

His phone, which had been shut off the entire time he was working, now started to vibrate. He missed a call. "_Hi Robbie. I - I just wanted to make sure you remembered you were supposed to come over here tonight when you got off work. I – bye_." Chase sighed and hurried to House's door and knocked, praying that House would still be awake.

Nothing.

"Shit," he cursed at the door and tried the doorknob, it was unlocked. Chase slipped into the dark apartment and sighed. House was asleep on the couch with the TV on some cartoon station.

"House," he whispered once he had taken his shoes off. "Greg," he tried, kneeling down so that his face was closer to the older man's. "Greg, love. You're going to wake up sore tomorrow if you sleep like this all night," Chase said, running the back of his hand down House's cheek in an attempt to wake him up.

"Make me coffee and I'll forgive you for having to work until the cows come home," House said in a gruff, half-asleep voice.

Chase got up and started the coffee and sat down on the floor next to the couch because House was still taking up the entire thing. "How're you feeling?" Chase asked, noting the look of pain and sadness on House's face.

"'m fine," House said, sounding anything but. It was times like this when Chase knew how lucky he was. He was able to see House – indestructible House – in such a vulnerable state, he knew that on some level, House trusted him. He was right up there with Wilson – at least, he hoped he was.

House sighed and slowly got up into a sitting position and patted the couch next to him. "Come 'ere," he said and watched as Chase got up and sat down next to him. "Why are you so late? We missed New Year's."

Chase smiled. "No we didn't, we still have 22 hours to celebrate it. I'm sorry I wasn't here at midnight. I wish I could have been. I got so sick of being there I just up and left, I'm gonna catch hell later but it was worth it."

House looked at him with a raised eyebrow and a 'what-the-hell-are-you-talking-about?' expression on his face. "And that would be what? Exactly?"

Chase laughed. "I got to spend time with you. You may not be the nicest guy in the world but damn if you don't me everything to me." With that, he got up and fixed House his cup of coffee.

"You're not too bad yourself, Robbie," House said with a sigh as he took a small sip of the coffee Chase had just handed him. "But I missed my New Year's kiss because I was waiting on you."

Chase looked over at House and took the coffee cup from House's hands and put it on the table out of the way; and, being mindful of his bad leg, straddled House and kissed him thoroughly. "How's that?"

"It wasn't at midnight," House said, crossing his arms across his chest, doing his best to look mad even though he was failing gloriously.

"Well then," Chase said, leaning close to House's ear. "You'll just have to keep me around until next New Year's Eve so you can get that kiss you missed out on."

"Sounds good, Robbie," House agreed, wrapping his arms around Chase's waist, his coffee and sadness all forgotten. "Sounds good to me."


	5. Silence

**Silence**

April came and with it came the rainy, windy days. It was starting to get warmer, but only slightly – still cold enough for the blonde Australian to wear his leather jacket when he went to work. But today wasn't just any day in April; today was the 17th.

Chase got up, alone in his own apartment for the first time in months. He and House weren't speaking because of some dumb reason or another. Chase couldn't remember why they were fighting this time. Anymore it seemed that anything could set off an argument and leave them alone for days at a time until Chase would talk to House and apologize for whatever grievous sin he had committed recently even if it wasn't really his fault. Well, not this time. House had told him to grow a spine and now he was.

He dressed in the red shirt he had bought specifically for today and headed to his car with a sever look on his face. He was determined to get through today like he had promised himself. He had already explained himself to Cuddy, which for him was enough, and had a slip of paper to give to whoever had the nerve to try and get him to talk today.

It was just like he imagined it would be when he walked into the differential room when he got to work. Cameron gave him a cherry wave which he returned, albeit with less fervor and asked him how he was doing. He sighed and handed her the paper. She scanned over it and nodded, handing it back to him with a smile on her face.

If it had been any other time while he was here, before he and House had made their relationship public, he wouldn't have had the balls to go any amount of time today in silence. Not only did he now have the confidence to be silent today but he also needed to prove a point to House. It was a given that his boss would spend most of the day trying to get him to slip up and speak but Chase was determined to go the entire day without a word.

"Okay team, we've got a new case. 27 year old female who collapsed on the subway to work this morning and woke up with hallucinations, severe paranoia and no idea how she was at the subway station. Any ideas?" House asked as soon as he walked in the room.

Cameron and Foreman immediately began spewing out ideas which House seemed to ignore, his focus solely on his young lover who was purposely keeping quietly.

"Come on, Chase, let's hear your idea. And if you say Lupus you can walk out of here."Chase shook his head and held out his hand in expectancy. "What? Do you want the marker?"

Chase nodded. House glared at him, sending an icy sensation down Chase's spine, and handed over his marker. Chase made his way over to the white board and wrote **cocaine **under the symptoms.

"That's great except there's nothing in her system," House said, immediately shooting down Chase's idea. Chase shrugged and sat back down at the table and watched with an expectant expression on his face as House began to speak in metaphors – something about a duck and vodka – and waited to see how long House would go before his curiosity would kick in.

He wasn't disappointed. Before Chase was able to begin eating his lunch House came limping up next to him and stole half his sandwich. "So," he said around a large bite of Chase's lunch. "You're still not speaking to me. I figured after a few nights with no sex you'd come back."

Chase just shook his head and continued eating.

"You've still got your panties in a twist? I told you, nothing happened," House said, sounding exasperated. He sat down across the table from Chase with a groan.

Chase continued to eat his lunch, not once speaking to House. "You're being immature. How long can you go without speaking to me?"

_At least until midnight tonight,_ Chase thought to himself but shrugged, clearly not interested in anything House was saying. House continued to try and engage Chase in a conversation so, getting thoroughly sick of what House was saying, showed him the same card that he had shown Cameron earlier that day.

House took the paper and read it out loud. "Day of Silence," he began after he finished off the sandwich he had stolen. "Please understand my reasons for not speaking today. I am participating in the Day of Silence (DOS), a national youth movement bringing attention to the silence face by lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people and their allies. My deliberate silence echoes that silence, which is caused by anti-LGBT bullying, name calling and harassment," House stopped reading and looked up at Chase with a strange expression on his face. "So today has nothing to do with you being mad at me?"

Chase sighed and took out a pen and scribbled a note down for House on a napkin. _Not everything is about you, Greg_.

House nodded and got up, presumably to force Wilson to buy him lunch, and put a hand on Chase's shoulder. "I'm proud of you, Robbie," he whispered, giving his shoulder a gently squeeze. "I am sorry," he said, sounding sincere.

_I know,_ Chase wrote under his last note. _I love you._

House smiled and grabbed Chase's pen. _I love you, too._ He stood up and ran his fingers across his lips in a zipping motion and left.

Chase never got his card back.

**Author's Note: **This chapter deals with a real day which, this year, is April 17th called the Day of Silence. It is an awareness day for the LGBTQ community where they don't speak for the day in order to bring awareness to the lack of voice they have in most aspects of life. This year, I find it a very important issue because of the states that, at one time, recognized civil unions in homosexual couples no longer do this. Arkansas has now made it illegal for homosexual couples to adopt/foster children. It is a real issue that needs to be addressed. If you want to find out more information about the Day of Silence and what you can do to help, go to .org.


	6. Never Let Go

Title: Never Let Go

Rating: T (and a little more)

Warning: Slash and angst!Chase

Disclaimer: All publicly known characters and names belong to their respective affiliates.

I make no money in writing this.

Also - the song House sings at the beginning is called Patience by Take That - I don't own that either.

A/N: This is my longest chapter yet - enjoy

Never Let Go

House went to work with an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach, like he was forgetting something important, but shook it off. He parked in his usual spot and killed the engine on his motorcycle before hopping off and limping into PPTH, late as usual.

He hummed a song to himself, something Chase had made him listen to, as he waited for the elevator. The words began to run across his vision, playing across the back of his eyelids. "_Just hold me close Inside your arms tonight, Don't be too hard on my emotions. 'Cause I need time My heart is numb, has no feeling So while I'm still healing Just try and have a little patience,_" House sang aloud and stopped. He felt that weight in the pit of his stomach -- the weight of forgetting something important. The song brought it about but gave him no answers, no satisfaction.

He walked into the differential room and noticed that only two of his three ducklings were present. "Where's the Wombat?"

Foreman shrugged and Cameron looked up and gave House a 'look'. "He's not here," she said shortly before going back to the reading she had in front of her.

House looked over at Foreman again and cocked his head. "Who made the coffee?" he asked, looking fearfully at the coffee pot. Foreman gestured across the table to Cameron. House blanched, and stuck his tongue out like a small child.

"We've got another free day so far," Cameron said as she flipped the page in the book she was reading.

House nodded and sat down, avoiding the coffee pot even though he needed his daily dose of caffeine more than anything else. He hated having nothing to do because now all he could do was think and thinking wasn't good when he didn't know what he was supposed to be thinking of.

Hours went by and Chase never showed up. _If he doesn't show up, he's going to be doing my clinic hours for a month_, House thought to himself. It was unlike Chase to not call and say why he was late, although for the past few months House himself had been the reason Chase had been late to work. But last night they had stayed at their own apartments. Chase seemed upset about it but he needed his space. It was enough that he had to spend all day with Chase, but every night with him was too much.

He sighed heavily and began playing with his PSP, giving him something else to think about until lunch. Wilson walked into his office and drew him out of his zone and asked him if he wanted lunch. "Duh," House said, turning his game system off and stashing it in his desk.

"So," Wilson began, once he had bought his and House's lunch. "What are you doing for Chase tonight?"

House looked up at Wilson with a confused expression on his face. "What do you mean 'What am I doing for Chase tonight?'"

Wilson stopped eating and looked over at House. "Are you serious?" he asked, surprise in his dark eyes. "You forgot. House, you amaze me sometimes."

House looked at his best friends slightly annoyed expression. "What do you mean?" he asked, still clearly confused. He knew he had been forgetting something all day. And suddenly, everything flooded back to him and he answered his own question. "It's his birthday," he said, worry etched in his face. "I've got to go," he said and got up and headed out the door with a speed a man with a cane shouldn't possess.

He hurried to his motorcycle and sped out of the parking lot and towards Chase's apartment. He didn't have any idea what he was going to say to his wombat when he got there, but he knew that as long as he showed up Chase would be happy. Wouldn't he? House sighed and reflected on the past few months of their relationship, the ups and the downs - at the moment there seemed to be more downs than ups. He sighed sadly and wondered to himself when was the last time he told Chase that he loved him.

Deciding that Chase could wait a little bit longer, House made a detour and drove to his own apartment and switched from his motorcycle to his car before speeding down to the grocery store to sate his lovers sweet tooth with a cake.

The young lady at the bakery counter helped him pick out a cake and even wrote 'Happy Birthday Robbie' on it for him with a smile. She handed him the cake and winked. "Don't worry about it, Dr. House. You saved my little sister's life so this is on me," she said as she paid for the cake for him.

"Thanks," he said and put the cake into the cart before hurrying out of the store as fast as he entered. "I'm on my way," he said quietly before he started the car.

By the time he got to Chase's apartment he was a nervous wreck. He parked his car next to Chase's and got out of the car and went around to the passenger seat where he had buckled the cake up to keep it from shifting and carefully picked it up. He walked slowly to Chase's door and knocked tentatively on the door. There was no answer so he tried the door. To his immense surprise it was locked.

He knocked louder and waited with baited breath. He was sure the blonde was here but it was silent on the other side of the door. "Robbie!" he all but yelled at the door, knocking again as he tried with all his might not to worry about his young lover. "Shit," he whispered, and rested his head on the door, feeling completely worn out. It was times like this he wished he would have taken Chase up on his offer for House to have a copy of the key to his apartment.

He knocked occasionally on the door and started to give up when after each knock on the door was met with silence. Just when it seemed like he would be standing out here until the next morning (he wasn't going to leave until Chase opened the door even if he had to wait all night) the door opened.

Chase stood at the door, blocking most of his apartment from House's view. "What?" Chase asked, sounding annoyed at the interruption. House looked at his lover and saw the anguish in his eyes and the dark circles under his eyes.

"Happy birthday," he said meekly, holding the cake out in front of him as a kind of peace offering.

Chase laughed bitterly before he answered. "Did Wilson tell you?"

House nodded, he didn't like the look on Chase's face - the empty, calloused look - and wished he would never have to see it again. "Can I come in?" he asked, feeling more awkward than he could remember ever feeling. Chase seemed to actually mull over his answer before he stepped out of the way and allowed House to come in.

It was dark and quiet in the apartment, an uncomfortable silence falling over the two as they stared each other down. "What do you want?" Chase asked again, his arms crossed over his chest. He was wearing a shirt House had bought him when he realized that Chase had a habit of dancing around his kitchen singing songs by Queen.

"Robbie," he started after he had set the cake down on the coffee table next to an open can of beer, not sure how to put his feelings to words. "So how do you feel? You're 27 today."

Chase shrugged and sat down on the couch and picked up the beer can, taking a long drink from it. "No different than yesterday, just more indifferent."

House sighed. "Come on, get dressed. We're going out," he said and took the cake again, putting it in the refrigerator. "The cake will be fine for a few hours."

"What if I don't want to go out? What if I want to sit here and wallow in self pity because my boyfriend forgot my birthday and forgets about my existence except for when he yells at me or fucks me?" Chase asked, his voice rising in volume after every question. He looked down into his beer as if it could answer every question for him.

"What do you want to do then?" House asked, dreading the answer to his question.

"I just want to spend time with you," Chase answered shyly. "I want you to hold me and never let go. I want you to say you love me and mean it. Tell me it's not just for the sex."

House looked at Chase and sighed. "Robbie," he began as he sat next to him on the couch and gently pried the beer out of Chase's grip. "I'll admit now that at the beginning of this, it was about the sex but now," he paused and took Chase's face into his hands, forcing the young intensive to look at him. "Now it's much more than that. I say it all the time that 'everybody lies' and that goes for me. But damn it, Robbie, I don't lie about that. I do love you, more than I know how to say."

Chase looked at him, his sea green eyes shining with unshed tears and shook his head with a laugh laced with immense sorrow. "It's too late now," he said cryptically.

It was then that House saw the empty bottle of Prozac under the table. "What did you do?" he asked shrilly. It was no news to House that Chase was on anti-depressants, he filled out the blonde's prescription; but this piece of information was too much. "What the fuck did you do?"

Chase didn't answer the question, his eyes began to close as his apartment spun out of focus and he blacked out as House called an ambulance, speaking quickly to the woman on the other end.

"Robbie," he whispered and slapped Chase in the face a few times to get him to wake up again. He groaned and put his head in his hands. _How long has he been this bad? _he asked himself, berating himself for not noticing his lover slip further and further away from him.

The doctors in the emergency room pumped Chase's stomach and signed him up for counseling twice a week with a psychiatrist while he remained unconscious. House stood over him, worry seemingly permanently etched on his face as he watched the slowly breathing form of the blonde.

Chase began to stir and looked around, blinking owlishly. "Greg?" he asked, a look of horror crossing his young face. "Oh, God, Greg. I - I didn't mean-"

House cut him off before he could continue. "You didn't mean to what, Robert? Didn't mean for me to knock on your door and interrupt your suicide party?" he snapped, the hand gripping his cane turning white from the strain.

"No," Chase said, his voice hoarse. "I'm sorry I made you angry."

"I'm not angry, Robert," he said, his own voice straining.

"Then why are you calling me Robert and not Robbie?" Chase asked as he tried to sit up but found he didn't have the strength.

"I'm not angry at you, I'm angry at myself," he answered as he sat at the edge of Chase's bed. "I'm angry at myself because I couldn't see what was right in front of me. You need help, Robbie, and I didn't see it. I probably made it worse." Chase didn't deny it, his silence cutting House to the quick. "But when you get out of here I promise I'll hold you and never let go, I'll tell you I love you every chance I get."

Chase nodded, grabbed House's hand and rubbed his thumb over his knuckles. "That's all I want."

"You're so needy," House said affectionately. "But I love you for it."

Chase smiled and House was happy to see that the smile lit up his entire face and reached his eyes, the tears from earlier now freely flooding down his cheeks. House reached up with his free hand and wiped them away, feeling no embarrassment about being gentle - by being un-Houselike.

Chase was able to leave soon after he woke up and after changing back into his clothes from before, he followed House out to his car. "Don't tell anyone?" Chase asked, looking at House out of the corner of his eye.

"No. I won't tell anyone," House reassured him. "But I'm not letting you out of my sight."

"Good," Chase said sleepily. He laid his head against the window and dozed off as House drove back to Chase's apartment where they relaxed on Chase's bed. House started singing the song he had stuck in his head earlier that day and ran his fingers through Chase's silky blonde locks as he fell asleep with a small content smile on his face.

They didn't get around to eating the cake until the next morning after House enjoyed the first cigarette he had in a week.


	7. London Fog

Title: London Fog

Warning: Slash House/Chase

Disclaimer: All publicly known characters and names belong to their respective affiliates.

I make no money in writing this.

Authors Note: The two parts of this happen at the same time - just to clear everything up…

It's short, I'm sorry. At least it's something right?

London Fog

House rolled out of bed, stiff and still tired. Bleary eyed, he looked around and noticed Chase had already left for work with a post-it on the bedside table telling him there was breakfast in the refrigerator. He smiled, despite his pounding headache; Chase was really starting to worm his way life. He limped into the shower and allowed the hot water to soothe his aching body.

He felt slightly better when he got out of the shower but his head was still pounding. "At least it's not lupus," he muttered to himself as he slid a t-shirt on. "Fucking cold."

He drove the car to the hospital due to the massive amounts of snow that was falling. He found himself wondering if Chase was alright; the Wombat's car wasn't parked in its usual spot. It started to snow harder when he got out of his car and hurried to the door.

"Alright, Ducklings," he started and looked around, noticing that Chase was indeed absent from the Diagnostic room. "Minus one - I've got a cold and a headache from hell. So you're going to keep quiet and let me ignore you." He didn't wait for a reply as he walked into his office. He heard Cameron say something about someone named Michelle who had kidney failure now but ignored it. His team could handle whatever happened to their patient.

He turned the lights off and relaxed in his chair with his eyes closed.

-----

Chase woke up and stretched, careful not to wake his lover up. House hadn't slept well during the night; he even kept Chase up for most of the night. He carefully put the back of his hand against House's forehead and felt the heat radiating off his skin. "Damn, Greg," he whispered.

Chase got out of bed and got a quick shower before cooking a light breakfast, even though he knew House wouldn't be eating any of it when he woke up. He left a note on a post-it by the bed telling House that breakfast was ready if he felt up to it.

He left early so he could make a detour to Starbucks. He bought the coffee he normally got and something he hoped would help House with his cold. "Don't let your boss harass you too much Robbie," the young man behind the counter said.

"He isn't, Cal," Chase said, grinning to himself. Cal was a nice kid, he was putting himself through Med school in much the same way Chase himself had. Cal lived by himself down the hall from Chase. "How are classes going?"

"I'm doing alright. Much better since you helped me out the other day."

"That's great," Chase said as he took his drinks from the counter and heading out the door. "Just let me know if there's anything else you need help with." He waved to Cal on his way out.

He pulled into the parking lot of PPTH in his usual spot and noticed House's car was already in its spot by the door. "I'm late. Great," he said to himself. If it would have been any other time House would have just degraded him in front of Cameron and Foreman and then let it drop. Today, House was sick which meant his already short fuse was non-existent.

"Where's House?" Chase asked as he looked around room and realized that House's office lights were off.

"His office," Cameron answered without looking up from the computer screen where she was currently answering House's e-mails.

Chase opened the door to House's office and found the older man asleep in his chair. He smiled and shook House awake. "Greg," he whispered close to House's ear. "Wake up, love."

House jerked awake and nearly hit Chase in the head with his elbow. "What?" he asked, slightly disoriented.

"It's just me, Greg," Chase said, handing House the tea he bought for him.

"Don't call me that at work," House chastised. He drank a bit of the tea and made a face. "What is this shit?"

"It's called London Fog. The people at Starbucks said it'd be good for helping to get rid of a cold," Chase said, smiling as House took another drink. "And we're alone, House."

House looked around and noted that Chase was right, the were alone. "Thanks, Robbie," he whispered.

"I'm going to get started on my clinic hours," Chase told him as he started to walk out of the room.

"Come back here," House commanded and gestured to Chase with two fingers in a 'come hither' motion. House grabbed onto Chase's tie when he got close enough. He kissed him squarely on the lips and let him go. "Now you can go," House said.

"Love you, Greg," Chase said, walking once again toward the door.

"Don't forget to do my clinic hours too!" House called from his place at his desk. "I love you, Robbie," he said, quietly, but Chase still heard him as he walked out, a small smile o his face.


	8. All I Want

Title: All I Want

Pairing: House/Chase

Rating: T

Warning: Implied slash – nothing graphic

Disclaimer: All publicly known characters and names belong to their respective affiliates. I make no money in writing this. The title of the chapter and the song belong to Staind. The bar I mention is also a real place that seems really nice to me – I'm not a huge bar person but this one … Oh, never mind.

All I Want

House was being sneaky, not that it was anything different than his usual behavior. Chase watched as House stalked into Wilson's office and gave him 'the look'. This look could be used for many things, the most widely used was the 'you're a moron' look; now the look meant 'keep out or else'. So, naturally, Chase was curious.

He waited, feeling much like a stalker, for House and Wilson to come out of Wilson's office for lunch. It wasn't like he had anything better to do; he decided to do his clinic hours after he ate his own lunch. It seemed that the two were deeply immersed in whatever it was they were doing behind the closed door.

Chase smiled slightly when he watched House beat Wilson over the head with a pencil and pointed the computer. It was a confusing interaction, but much about Greg House was confusing. He was rude but incredibly sweet; he was invasive but gave Chase his space when he needed it. Being with House for this long had taught him to always be on guard but this strange behavior threw him for a loop. It wasn't like he was being any nicer to him at work. No, it was the tiptoeing that had Chase confused. House seemed to be planning something, something that Wilson was now involved in (even if Wilson didn't exactly want to be involved).

The duo didn't leave at the normal time the pair took their lunch break so Chase left and made his way down to the cafeteria to get his own lunch before he started on his clinic duty and to the ICU. He picked at his lunch of what he supposed was a cheeseburger, his thoughts a mile away. Or, more precisely, a few floors up in Wilson's office. He started humming a song House had been humming the night before and cursed his lover; it was a catchy song, and for the life of him, Chase couldn't place the tune to any song he had ever heard before.

He wasn't with it through his clinic hours but focused as much as he could on each patient. One time almost losing his ability to practice was enough for him. He prescribed two different people with cold medicine and a large number of "Go home and drink some hot tea," to the people who didn't understand that it was just a sore throat. By the time he got out of the clinic he was sick of people and was infinitely glad that the ICU was over-staffed and slow as molasses. He was allowed to go almost as soon as he walked into the ICU.

Since he had nothing better to do with his time, Chase decided to go back to his apartment and cook himself something to eat before House came over to watch General Hospital. He was ashamed to admit it, but after months of watching the soap, he was getting involved in the plot and wanted to know what happened next. It was times like this that he realized how much House had influenced his life without even trying.

When House opened the door, he now had his own key; he took one look at the TV and stalked over to it. "Did I miss anything?" he asked as he sat down next to Chase and stole the energy drink Chase had left on the coffee table. "You don't need this," he said matter-of-factly.

"No, you didn't miss anything, it just started. And yes, I'm perfectly aware that I don't really need that, but I still like it," Chase answered, reaching over House to grab the can out of his hand. House snorted with laughter but settled down on the couch to watch the television.

Chase knew that House wasn't really watching program, it was obvious by looking at him. Chase grinned and switched to Cartoon Network just to see if House would notice.

It took a few minutes, but after a while, House seemed to snap out of his trance. His blue eyes locked with Chase's green one's as the blonde gave House a shit-eating grin. "It took you long enough, Greg. I changed the channel a while ago."

"Sorry," he replied. "My mind is just elsewhere right now."

Chase nodded in agreement. "Well, then. I know how to cure that," he said, his eyebrows raised in suggestion. House smiled and got up off the couch. He reached down and pulled Chase to him by his hideous tie.

"Show me," he whispered huskily.

Chase grinned lecherously and walked towards his bedroom, swaying his hips as he went.

HCHCHCHC

House's strange behavior continued throughout the rest of the week. By Friday, Chase was fed up with all the secrecy, but said nothing. He continued to watch as House would sneak into Wilson's office whenever he had a free minute. It wasn't just at work that House seemed distant. Last night House had gone to his own apartment and told Chase he needed the night to himself. Chase agreed but was still painfully curious as to what his strange lover was up to.

He was sitting by himself at lunch when Wilson walked up to the table he was sitting at. "What are you doing tonight?" he asked as he sat down opposite Chase.

Chase paused, looking at Wilson in surprise. "Uh, Wilson. If you're coming onto me, your efforts are in vain and you know that," he said slowly and quietly so no one else in the crowded room could hear him.

Wilson laughed and shook his head. "No. I'm not coming onto you." Chase relaxed at this. "House wants you to go to Rhythms of the Night." At Chase's blank stare he continued. "It's a bar in Manville. Do you know how to get there?"

Chase shrugged. "Just give me the address and I'll MapQuest it." Wilson nodded and wrote the address on Chase's napkin. "He wants you there by 8. Oh, and he says if you're late he'll," Wilson paused, a blush coloring his cheeks.

Chase took pity on Wilson so he finished the sentence for him. "I get the picture, Wilson. Don't worry, I'll be there."

Wilson look at him, grateful that he didn't have to tell Chase what House had said to him. "I'll see you there," he said as he walked off.

Chase watched Wilson walk off with questions swirling around in his head. Most of the questions surrounded House's unusual behavior and Wilson's involvement in whatever was going on at Rhythms later on.

He drove home after work and began to get ready for the evening. By the time he showered and changed into a worn but comfortable pair of jeans and a dark green pullover sweater Wilson bought him for Christmas. "He's right; it does bring out my eyes," Chase said as he caught a glimpse of himself in his mirror.

Armed with the directions from MapQuest, he made his way to his car, still completely in the dark as to why he was forced to drive to Manville.

When he got there he was surprised. It was actually a nice place. Chase walked in and was immediately grabbed and pulled to a table. "Sit here," House commanded. Chase, over the shock of being grabbed in a strange place, nodded and sat down in a chair facing a small stage where someone was singing, very off key, to Fat Bottom Girls. The entire ordeal made him feel sick; someone was messing with his beloved Queen.

He sat through a few more songs before the DJ made an announcement. "Okay, ladies and gentlemen, we've got a special surprise for you. Welcome to the stage Greg and James."

Chase watched as House and Wilson walked up on stage as the curtain opened and a drum set was revealed. "Oh no," Chase whispered, holding his head in his hands. He looked up at the stage as House grabbed the guitar that was sitting on a stand on one corner of the stage while Wilson sat behind the drum set. "This should be interesting."

House walked up to the microphone that had just been used to sing some horrible pop song that was going to be stuck in Chase's head for ages. "I just want to dedicate this to someone very special to me," he said, his eyes locked with Chase's. "This is for you, Wombat."

House turned to Wilson and nodded. Wilson clicked his sticks together and House let out a low ringing note before Wilson joined in. When the song started Chase was surprised to note that he knew the song, not by the words, but by the tune. It was the same song House had been humming most of the week when he thought no one was around to hear him.

Chase closed his eyes and listened to the words in the song. He was sure that this was what House had been doing all week and he felt a little ashamed at himself for thinking there was something going on between House and Wilson.

As House began the chorus Chase knew that House had painstakingly found a song that encompassed everything he was feeling. House had told him time and time again that he could never put into words exactly what he felt for the younger man. The song was enough.

Chase opened his eyes and looked at House as he sang, his fingers gliding over the frets like liquid, finding the right notes as if he had written the song himself. When they finished, Chase was clapping along with everyone else, a million-watt smile on his face. "That was brilliant, love," he said to House when the two men sat at his table.

"Thanks, darling," Wilson said to him, a grin on his face.

"You were both brilliant," Chase said, correcting his previous statement to include Wilson this time. "I didn't know you played the drums, Jim."

Wilson grimaced and looked over at House with a death glare. "I haven't played since college. He found out some how and coerced me into doing this."

"I did not 'coerce' you into this," House said, sounding indignant.

Chase sided with Wilson although he kept quiet through the exchange. There was no doubt in his mind that House had used any means necessary to get Wilson to help him out. He continued to watch his expressive lover as he and Wilson argued about something or the other, Chase wasn't listening.

"Robbie!"

Chase snapped out of his trance and looked up into House's impossibly blue eyes. "Yes love?"

"You're taking me home," House said, as if Chase had a say in the matter in the first place. Chase got up and held out a hand to House. House took his hand and wove their fingers together and stared at them. He seemed to be deep in thought for a few moments but he smiled and stood up. "Come on, let's go."

Chase waved goodbye to Wilson when they got to his car. "I'm glad I didn't steal your motorcycle," Chase said, shivering from the cold.

House nodded and opened his door once Chase had unlocked it. Chase turned the car on quickly and sighed as the heat turned on almost instantly. But when he reached to put the car into gear, House stopped him. "What is it?" Chase said curiously.

"Just sit here for a minute," House commanded, his eyes scanning over Chase's face like an x-ray. "You're so young, Robbie," House whispered.

"I'm not a kid, House," Chase countered, not sure of where the conversation was going.

"I know," House said back, his over-bright eyes were starting to worry Chase. "But you're so young, so beautiful. You could have anyone you want and you're with me. Sometimes I think it's all a dream and I'll wake up and be alone and miserable again."

"It's not a dream, Greg," Chase whispered, taking House's hand in his own. "I am with you, and that's not about to change."

"But look at us, Robbie. You've got your whole life ahead of you, mine's half over. I don't even know why you'd want to be with me. I'm crippled, a bastard, a –"

Chase cut him off. "Greg, stop it. I don't care that you're twenty years older than me." House corrected him under his breath with a quiet 'eighteen' but Chase ignored it. "You are a cripple, you're certainty a bastard, but that all comes with the territory. I know what I signed up for." Chase looked into House's eyes and ignored the embarrassed flush on his cheeks. "Let's go home, love." House nodded, this time, allowing Chase to put the car into gear.

House reached over and turned the radio to his favorite station. Chase looked at him out of the corner of his eye and saw him mouth something. Being around House for as long as he had been, he got used to reading lips – what, with House mocking everything Cuddy said behind her back, and all.

"You're all I want too, Greg."


	9. Easy

Title: Easy

Pairing: House/Chase

Rating: T – angst

Warning: Implied slash – nothing graphic

Disclaimer: All publicly known characters and names belong to their respective affiliates.

I make no money in writing this.

A/N: ::peaks out from hidy-hole:: So sorry I haven't updated in ages. I've been completely drained of all creativity since the beginning of the semester. Sorry this is kinda angsty but I needed to write it – why, I have no idea, but I did.

Easy

It should have been easy. But it wasn't, not by a long shot.

House knew he should have learned from what happened last time; but everyone has perfect vision in hind-sight.

He sat at his favorite bar, drowning his sorrows in liquor. The bartender forced him to surrender his keys – something he did easily. He knew he shouldn't drive, he knew he was way past that point. Instead, he reached for his cell phone and dialed the first number that came to mind.

Chase answered. It surprised House to no end. They had a major blow-out earlier that evening, which was why House found himself in a bar, drunk as a skunk.

"What do you want, House?" Chase asked, sounding thoroughly annoyed.

House winced at the use of his surname instead of 'Greg' which Chase had taken to calling him whenever they were alone. "Can you pick me up?" he asked, his speech slightly slurred.

He heard Chase sigh heavily on the other end of the line before answering with a clipped "Where are you?"

House told him and was about to continue talking; however, Chase cut him off by hanging up on his end. House sighed heavily into his last glass, hating the way his eyes were prickling. He would not cry, not here. He would wait until Chase dropped him off at his apartment to let go.

He should have learned from the past that this was not a good idea. But what are the odds that the same thing would happen twice?

It didn't happen exactly the same way as it had with Amber. No, Amber made it to the bar and died on the bus. He never liked Amber, there was a reason House and everyone else called her 'Cut-throat Bitch', and it was a title she defended all the time. But House remembered how much it hurt Wilson when he learned that it was House she had gone to pick up when she died. House now knew what that felt like.

He sat on his barstool for an hour before he began to panic. It was an irrational fear, he was sure, but Chase didn't live that far away – it shouldn't take him this long to get here. Yes, the roads were wet, but not wet enough to warrant the snails pace Chase had to have been driving at.

House gave up on him, figuring Chase didn't want to be near him at the moment and called up Wilson instead. After skillfully avoiding the 'what about Chase' question, Wilson agreed to pick him up.

He didn't have to wait long before Wilson came in, right before the last call for alcohol. "House," Wilson said, sounding exasperated. Wilson sat next to House as he finished off the last of his water the bartender had forced on him. "Why didn't Chase pick you up?"

_Damn, knew I wouldn't avoid this forever. _He squared his shoulders and looked at Wilson over the rim of his glass. "Me 'n him ha' a figh'," he said quietly, his words slurring more than they had when had talked to Chase a little more than an hour ago. "He wus suppose' ta come 'n get me -" He stopped talking when a stricken look came across Wilson's impassive face. "Wha'?" He asked. The strange feeling in his chest - the one he had been feeling since Chase didn't show up - intensified. He no longer felt the effects of the large amount of alcohol he had consumed. "What is it?" he asked again.

Wilson didn't answer, but his eyes trailed over to the door. "Come on," he said, grabbing House by the arm.

He stumbled to Wilson's car with the help of his friend and sat in the passenger seat, staring at his pager that had just went off. It was from Cuddy.

_Emergency. ICU -NOW!_

"Take me to the hospital," House commanded, the feeling in his chest now exploded, encompassing his entire body until he was shaking so badly he couldn't buckle his seat belt.

Wilson didn't ask why but the look on his face gave everything away. He buckled House in and sped away, taking the freeway to avoid all the bar traffic.

House was out of the car before Wilson had even put it in park. He hobbled towards the door to ICU, adrenaline pumping through his veins as his heart beat rapidly against his ribcage. _Please – if there is a God – please don't take him._

HCHCHC

It should have been easy to stop after it happened a second time.

It wasn't.

House sat on his couch, surrounded by empty beer bottles and the scrapbook Chase had made of the two of them (What a fag, he thought affectionately). He didn't even realize half of these photos had been taken.

The first page had a note taped to it.

_Greg_

_I've been collecting these for some time – I hope you like it. They remind me of how happy we can be when we aren't fighting. We're both too stubborn for our own good. _

_But I love you all the more for it._

_All my love,_

_Robbie_

House slowly peeled the note off the paper, careful not to tear it or the page it was attached to. He set both the note and the book on his table before his bad leg gave out on him and he collapsed next to the table, tears finally flowing freely. He hadn't let himself cry when they pronounced Chase dead on arrival. He hadn't let himself cry when they lowered his body into the cold, wet, ground. But now, when he was alone with nothing but his memories, he let himself cry.

House once wondered what Chase would do when the years of drinking and pill popping finally caught up to him. Not once did he ever realize that he would out-live his young lover.

It wasn't easy to stop drinking; but, at the bottom of a bottle, it was easy to forget the pain. It was easy to forget that his heart had broken into a thousand pieces when they closed Chase's unseeing sea-green eyes.

The only hope the other doctors were able to give him was that he died quickly. It was an easy death. House laughed morosely through his tears. It might have been easy on Chase but what about House? Did no one care that it happened again? He killed someone else because he was too immature to stop drinking before he got totally sloshed.

HCHCHC

It wasn't easy to forget, but House found it easy to follow. Two years later House died of an accidental overdose. It was painful, it was messy but it was easy.

So sorry this is so damn depressing. I guess I'm in on of _those_ moods.


	10. Fortune Cookies

Title: Fortune Cookies

Pairing: House/Chase & hints of Chase/OC

Warning: mild slash

Disclaimer: All publicly known characters and names belong to their respective affiliates. I make no money in writing this.

**Fortune Cookies**

House loved Chinese food it was as simple as that. The best part was the fortune cookies. It wasn't until quite recently that he put much stock into the little scraps of paper inside the cookies.

_Doing things changes things._

That certainly made him stop and think. There were plenty of things in House's life that he wanted to change. On was, although he was loathed to admit it to anyone other than Steve McQueen, that he was tired of waking up alone. He was tired of having on one to come home to. This was never mentioned to Steve in case it hurt the poor rat's feelings.

A string of meaningless one-night-stands later House found himself sitting in one of his favorite bars nursing a beer. He was quite shocked to see his youngest ducking sitting further on down the bar knocking back a shot with practiced ease. Chase was wearing, not his usual hideous work clothes, but a form fitting vintage tee and dark grey jeans slung low over his narrow hips.

Making up his mind, House limped over to the young intensive and asked if Chase minded some company. Chase, if he had been shocked, hid it well. "It's a free country," he said sullenly.

House found himself staring at red rimmed green eyes. "What's the story, Morning Glory? You look like your boyfriend just broke up with you."

In stead of answering, Chase flagged down the bartender and asked for another shot and a beer. House prodded his underling with his cane, trying to get him to continue talking. "Stop it, House. Isn't it enough for you to degrade me about everything else? Why should I add fuel to the fire by telling you that I'm an overly emotional, heartbroken flamer?"

House shrugged and drank another sip of his beer. "His loss," he said, not bothering to tell Chase that he had just admitted to being in a relationship with another man even though that seemed to be the exact thing Chase didn't want him to know. "So what happened?"

"Got dumped. He was sick of me never being home. I think he didn't miss me as much as he did the sex. But apparently, he was getting that on the side as well." Chase slammed his fist down onto the counter and rested his head on his arm.

He visibly flinched and watched as Chase lifted his head up and drained the dark amber liquid from his glass. "I think you've had enough. I'm driving you home," House said, waving to the bartender and paid for both his and Chase's tabs.

"Thanks," Chase said meekly.

"Don't mention it," House replied. "No, seriously. Don't mention it. Ever."

Chase smiled as House led him out to his car and House drove him back to his house with a promise to pick him up in the morning so that he could get his car.

* * *

_Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you'll land among the stars._

House tossed the fortune in the trash along with the empty take out containers before deciding to go for a walk. It wasn't too late yet and it was the perfect evening to go for a walk and sit in the park.

By the time he got to his favorite bench it was nearing twilight. He didn't seem to be the only one with the same idea about the park. He wasn't there fifteen minutes before Chase ran by in a pair of Bond University* track pants and t-shirt, headphones in his ears. To anyone who didn't know the Australian, it would seem the blonde was just enjoying an evening run in the park. House, however, knew better. Chase was completely open with his emotions no matter what he was doing. From here, it looked like Chase was running from something. And, unless his eyes were becoming as useless as his leg, there were tears mixing with the beads of sweat tracing salty lines down the blonde's cheeks.

On Chase's third time around the large pond House was sitting by he stopped at the bench House was occupying. "Done running from your problems?" House asked sagely once the younger had removed the earbuds from his ears.

Chase leaned over, resting his forearms on his thighs. He turned his head towards his boss. The few stars in the New Jersey night sky were reflecting in Chase's sea-green eyes. "I'm not running anymore."

"No, you're not," House agreed, reaching his hand out to brush Chase's hair away from his eyes. A part of his mind recalled '_land among the stars'_ as he closed the distance between their mouths. He smiled slightly when he was met with no resistance.

* * *

_You should get a cat._

House was confused but, nevertheless, he pulled Chase up off the couch and made his blonde lover put his shoes on. Chase pouted and whined a bit but still smiled when House said that he could pick out the cat.

"I'll never take a fortune cookie lightly again," House said, pocketing the small piece of paper next to all the others he had started collecting. "After all, they've given me good advice so far."

* * *

*Bond University is a university on the Gold Coast of Australia – it's in Queensland, Australia (that's up north). Chase is, I believe, supposed to be from Melbourne, Australia which is in Victoria (that's down south). It's plausible that he could have gone there. I don't remember if it ever says in the series where Chase went to school so I'm taking a few liberties.


	11. Give Me A Sign

Title: Give Me A Sign

Pairing: House/Chase implied Chase/Cameron

Rating: T

Warning: Implied slash – nothing graphic

Spoiler: if you haven't seen episode 6:16 Lockdown be warned, there be spoilers ahead!

Disclaimer: All publicly known characters and names belong to their respective affiliates. I make no money in writing this.

The title of this section comes from Breaking Benjamin, owned by Benjamin Burnley and the Hollywood label company.

A/N: I'm sorry it's been so long since I've uploaded a new chapter...I have no excuse, except the fact that I'm a 3rd year Literary Studies major. And thank you to everyone who has either put this story on their favorites or story alerts, and of course my lovely reviewers. You all make me smile.

Give Me A Sign

It had been a week since the lockdown at Princeton Plainsboro had occurred. House and his team seemed to have changed over night – not an obvious change to those who were not part of the Diagnostics team, or Wilson for that matter, but to Chase, Foreman, House, Taub, and Thirteen it was apparent in everything they did.

House was accepting more cases than normal, it was the end of the week and they were on their second case, a 35 year old Marine with lower abdominal pain and bleeding gums that was rapidly killing him. Wilson called his ex-wife Sam back and they had a date scheduled for the next day. Foreman and Taub seemed to have some unknown camaraderie that seemed to appear out of nowhere. Thirteen called her father and confessed everything she had been keeping from him for the past few years. But it was Chase that seemed to change the most. House watched his employee become quiet and withdrawn – more so than he had been ever since he and Cameron split up months ago.

"Go do a biopsy on that lump," House commanded and watched his co-workers scramble to do as he said; all but Chase who slowly got up, a slightly lost look on his young face. "Wombat, you stay here." Chase stopped and looked over at House, his hands on his hips like he wanted very much not to be cornered by House with no escape.

"Come with me, young grasshopper," House said, leaning heavily on his cane as he limped to his office door. He drew the blinds closed and locked the door once Chase had stepped inside and sat down on House's couch, looking thoroughly exhausted.

They sat in silence for several minutes, House unsure of what to do from this point. He was almost surprised that Chase had actually listened to him and willingly followed House into his office when it was clear that he didn't want to be there. "Are you okay?" he asked finally, unable to take the awkward silence any longer.

Chase looked up at him, his sea-green eyes surrounded by dark bruise-like shadows. It seemed to House that the younger man hadn't been sleeping much in the past week. "When Wilson invited me to go speed dating with the two of you, did you mean what you said?" House thought back but was unsure what exactly Chase was talking about so he just shrugged and hoped Chase would elaborate. "I talked with Allison when the hospital was in lockdown -" Chase paused and stood up suddenly. He began pacing around House's office like a caged animal who was dying to escape. House listened as Chase told him the entire story that ended with Chase's confession "and we slept together," he stopped after that and collapsed back onto the couch, burying his face in his arms. He began speaking but his arms muffled the sound, along with the sounds of choked sobbing coming from the blonde intensive.

House stiffened and slowly moved towards the couch where Chase had curled up and looked every bit the part of the abandoned child he had been years before. House realized in that moment just how broken – how similar they really were – Chase was. First his father, then his mother, now his ex-wife. All of Chase's relationships seemed to be just as bad as his own. It was a startling revelation to be looking at a younger version of himself and watching him break down in a way House never allowed himself to do.

He knelt down and, mindful of his bad leg, pried Chase's arms away from his face and pushed him up to a sitting position. House looked into Chase's red-rimmed, tear-stained eyes and saw himself reflected back at him. "It's going to be okay," he said quietly, "maybe not today, but it will." He felt sort of silly giving Chase relationship advise. Chase seemed to think so, if the cynical look on his face was anything to go off of.

"I know it's going to be okay. I just don't know what the hell I was thinking when I slept with her. There's part of me that still loves her, but that part is getting smaller and smaller every day." House raised an eyebrow, asking Chase a silent question that the Australian seemed to understand. "I think I'm falling for someone else," he answered quietly. The once devastated look on Chase's face did a one-eighty in seconds.

Chase grabbed onto the lapel of House's blazer and pulled him forward. "Tell me to stop. Tell me not to do this," Chase begged, a desperate look in his over-bright eyes.

House opened his mouth to answer but found that part of him didn't want to tell Chase not to do whatever it was he was about to do, even though the look in his shadowed eyes gave him a good idea.

"I'm falling apart, House. And no one seems to care," he whispered before claiming House's mouth in a searing kiss.

After a moment of shock – _who knew the kid had it in him? _House found himself wondering – he felt himself responding to the kiss with equal intensity. "You've got to rise above this," he managed to say when they broke apart to catch their breath.

"I will, only to fall again," he said darkly, kissing House again more gently and shyly than the last. They both stood and House backed Chase up until his back was against the wall, his hand resting on Chase's cheek.

"Robbie," he said, realizing that he didn't mean to say Chase's given name but that it flowed over his tongue easily. "You're strong, you don't need me to make you feel better."

"But I want you, you make me feel like -" he paused, some kind of light turning on behind his eyes. He put a hand on House's chest, feeling his heart beat rapidly in his chest. "It's Werlhof's Disease," Chase said, as out of the blue as House when he comes up with a diagnosis.

House reached for his pager and typed in a message to the team, telling them to start treatment, a beaming smile on his face. "You're growing up, Robbie. I'm proud of you." House put his pager away and looked back at Chase to see a glow returning to Chase's face. "You said no one seems to care that you're falling apart. You're wrong there."

Chase smiled and nuzzled his face in the crook of House's neck, nipping slightly at the exposed skin above his collar before sucking on the bite mark he had created.

House gasped, "I've never appreciated your oral fixation before now," he said, his voice dropping several octaves with lust. "You don't want to do this right now," House warned, regretting saying the words as soon as they left his mouth, because House wanted it and he knew Chase did too.

"Yes I do," Chase said, attacking House's neck with reckless abandon. "Right here. Right now. Any way you'd have me," he answered, unbuttoning House's button down shirt. House grabbed Chase's trembling hands between his own.

"Robbie, look at me," he said, not letting go of Chase's hands. "Are you sure? If we leave right now and go back to your place you're not going to have any regrets at all?" Chase looked down at his hands that were still encased in House's larger hands.

Looking back into House's eyes, Chase nodded. "House, Greg," he paused, unsure if House would allow him to call him by his given name. "The only thing I would regret is if you're wishing that I'll be some prince charming. Apparently I'm good looking but I want to be with someone who looks past that, someone who-"

House cut him off, kissing him and backing him into the wall at the same time. "I've seen you at some of your worst moments and you still haven't managed to scare me away."

Chase nodded and relaxed into House, several tears of relief escaping from his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered. "My apartment?" he said, kissing House once again nodded.

"Let's go," he said, letting go of one of Chase's hands but threading his fingers through Chase's hand that he didn't drop. "I always said you were the prettiest, Robbie, even after you cut your hair," he said with a smile to let Chase know he was joking.

"Thanks, Greg," Chase said, walking towards the door with a little more pep in his step than the had before.


End file.
